


Intoxicated.

by eyes_glued_shut



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - College/University, College AU, Cuddling, F/M, Fluff, Manipulation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-07 00:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14659749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyes_glued_shut/pseuds/eyes_glued_shut
Summary: Nearing hopelessness within his studies as he nears college, Stanford Pines has nowhere to go. He's desperate to find more from his studies but it's seemingly futile.Until he finds odd scriptures on a cave wall, that is.Ignoring the warnings not to read it aloud, he announces the incantation. Nothing happens, so he rolls his eyes and leaves, disappointed, but the effects of the cave words still linger and their effect will soon be obvious.There's nothing he can do about it now. No opportunity to take back his words.Time to deal with the consequences, no matter what they may be.





	1. Chapter 1

Sometimes, it can be harder to admit that you’re stuck than it is to give up.

 

This was the stage of work Ford had found himself at.

 

Dry twigs and leaves crunched beneath his feet as he trudged. The sky was dark, grey, filled with blotchy storm clouds that threatened to empty themselves onto the town below it at any moment. The lacking patches of blue sky likely meant that the rain, whenever it arrived, wouldn’t let up for hours. Densely packed trees surrounding him, despite giving the illusion of shelter, would be barely helpful in keeping him dry. Pacing slowly through the unfamiliar woodland path, Ford continued his search. He was desperate to find something, anything, that would further his paranormal research and coax him out of his slump.

 

“Just one more minute of walking. Then I’ll go back home and hopefully get there before it begins to rain.”

 

He would constantly urge himself to continue with the internal plead of ‘just another minute’, but it was no secret that his hopeful mentality was beginning to deteriorate. This search, he was telling himself, would not be fruitless once more. He’d not be able to live with himself if it was. The paranormal was elusive and, unless he got conclusive evidence soon, he’d be laughed at and called delusional for the rest of his life. His study of paranormal creatures and the supernatural phenomena that occured in the town of Gravity Falls was going to be the death of him, at this rate. Not only had his current finds been either too childish to be believed or didn’t have any photographic evidence.

A breakthrough was definitely needed at this point, not only to get himself out of the rut he was stuck in but also to alter his reputation. Being the laughing stock of the science world was the last thing he wanted. He wasn’t some cryptid hunter, looking for what didn’t exist or had little evidence of existing. He was Stanford Pines, he was going to be the one to open the world’s eyes to the supernatural abilities and paranormal creatures that they refused to accept as real.

Pacing slowly through the forest, Ford finally decided to take a break. “It’s not giving up,” his voice came quietly as he turned toward a cave., as if he needed to remind himself. The loud rumbling of the clouds and light rain signified the start of a storm. The last thing he needed was to get stuck out in a storm with all of his research, papers, and his laptop in his bag. Water damage like last time would be the end of him. Removing a large torch from his bag and using it to illuminate the cave, Ford began to search it.

 

Maybe it was instinct to search around the cave. Impulse wasn’t unlikely. Blind hopefulness was the most likely reason behind his search, but he definitely hadn’t expected to come across anything interesting.

He paced around, scanning the floor and walls. All he could see were rocks or moss. The stones ranged in sizes, from large boulders to small pebbled, yet all of them either had triangles carved into them or they were shaped as triangles. Paint soon began to splatter the walls. Curiously, Ford examined them, following them along the cave wall. His fingers traced a black triangle carved into the wall before he, almost grinning with the absurdity, pressed his hand to a handprint on the wall- one that also held six fingers. Suddenly, the wall burst to life, black and gold painting itself onto the wall in a mix of splatters and intricate swirls. He stepped back, shocked, but his gaze didn’t even flicker away from the sight. 

The painting, once complete, revealed itself as an extravagant feature, golden and yellow paint illustrating a visit from some godly creature, one that bestowed power onto his people with the consequence of intense suffering. Some was emotional, some physical, some mental. All of which tore the bearers of the punishment apart.

 

Eyes wide with shock and eagerness, Ford knelt down to shine the torch over foreign words. He recognised the language as French. Odd, to find French in a place like America.

 

“ARRÊTEZ! NE LISEZ PAS CE QUI EST ÉCRIT CI-DESSOUS À MOINS QUE VOUS NE VOULIEZ UNE MORT DOULOUREUSE!”

 

Ford, elated due to his new discovery and not thinking clearly, took the chance. A painful death that may not come for centuries to come, judging by the power of the mentioned being, figured that it was better to take the jump, for the advancement of science. Deciding it was worth it, he read the forbidden scripture aloud. Why not? After all, progress waited for no man. His fame, his redemption, it may all depend on this.  
“A-X-O-L-O-T-L! Mon heure est venue de brûler! J'invoque l'ancien pouvoir que je peux retourner!” He announced the writing strongly, in his most confident voice. Those few years of French must have paid off, as he assumed his accent was perfect. He kept his gaze fixed onto the wall as if he expected it to crumble away and reveal some otherworldly being that could snap it’s fingers to give him his ideal life.

 

Disappointingly, though, nothing happened. Ford was forced to slump by the mural, taking out his notebook and adding information on the wall. He then built on all other information, hours upon hours passing while he worked, but it was an easy way to distract himself while the rain passed. It was boring to review his old notes so repetitively, but it was good to check through his old writing. After all- he couldn’t afford to have any mistakes in his writing. His notepads would soon be mass produced and sold worldwide to show the thoughts of a true genius with the original preserved in a museum devoted to him. Sure, he had high hopes for his future, but he was confident that his work would pay off eventually.

 

When the skies cleared, he left. Relieved to not be walking home in the rain, Ford walked through the muddy paths.

 

Home in around half an hour, Ford escaped to his room and began to pack away his research notes for college. He had to leave the following day for college, after all. It was better to be completely prepared for everything two weeks before the leaving date (which was why he packed everything a fortnight earlier) than to be unprepared and pack the night before.

 

Settling into bed, Ford closed his eyes and relaxed, drifting off. His dreams were filled with murals and shapes he couldn’t recognise and a voice he’d never heard before, shrill and echoing, filled his mind. He wouldn’t quite call the dream a nightmare, as it hadn’t been scary, but it was definitely unnerving.

 

What a peculiar occurrence.


	2. Chapter One: Meeting

Backupsmore University wasn’t Ford’s first choice. It wasn’t even his last choice, but here he was. The dorm building looked uninviting and Ford wondered if it was too late to withdraw his application here. The building was dull, and overgrown plants lined the windows under the ground floor. He watched as people walked past him, chattering about how excited they were to be studying. Ford wished he was excited. Instead, he was angry.  
He could’ve been studying at West Coast Tech, his dream school! The first thing he planned to do was to write a letter to his ma, telling her how happy he was, just to put her mind at ease.  
Ford carried his luggage up the three flights of stairs to where his room was (the elevator was broken, and from the looks of it, had been for a while.) He glanced at the sheet of paper that had his room number on it and started to walk down the hallway. Everything looked… basic. The walls were a rather gross colour of yellow, and the carpet had many unexplainable stains on it. He was dreading how his own room looked. Once he came across the door with the room number on it, he grabbed his key and unlocked it, expecting the worst.  
The room itself wasn’t so bad. The wallpaper reminded him of something from his grandma’s house, which was nice, he supposed. He set his suitcase down in the space by his bed and looked around, hands on his hips. He was taken aback when he actually noticed his roommate.

 

The first thing that became clear upon looking at Ford’s new roommate was how unkempt he was. His hair, shoulder-length and almost a clump of knots dumped onto his head, was brown at the roots but was bleached itself into blond before fading into a pastel blue. His hair didn’t even hold the most personality- his eyes were both brown but his left eye was half blue as if resembling the sky and the earth, upside-down. A tattoo was around his eye, some odd sigil that he had thought looked cool and was fitting. It curved around his eye, odd lines and dots littered around his eyes in details that had been done for the precision. He was lying upside-down from the edge of the bed, reading a book on trigonometry, and even as he mouthed the words along it was clear his teeth were sharpened and slightly pointy. Overall, he was clearly an incredibly peculiar person.

 

Tattoos of more sigils sank from his jaw beneath his black hoodie, and weird patterns of triangles and sigils could be seen littered on his left hand. Upon noticing Ford (or deciding to pay attention to him), he dropped the book onto the floor. His lips split into a wide, sharp-toothed grin, and he collapsed off of his bed into a slump on the floor. He pushed himself to stand up, walking over to Ford, this stranger with fluffy hair and askew glasses. Stumbling as he stopped around a metre before the brunet, sticking out one hand in front of him and beaming as he looked at the brunet.  
“The name’s Bill!” He chirped happily, his lips still split into this grin. Getting a closer view of his face, it was clear that there were small eyes tattooed across the left side of his face. He looked like a total and utter freak.

 

Ford looked at his roommate. He glanced at his hand, and then back up at Bill. “Uh, hello, Bill,” he replied, worried that he was going to freak Bill out with his hands. So he kept them behind his back, even though he felt rude for not returning Bill’s handshake. A firm handshake makes a good impression, as his pa would say.  
Unable to bite back a laugh in response, Bill retracted his unshaken hand, letting his awkward arms dangle by his sides. What was he supposed to do with them? Did humans always have to deal with the awkwardness of their limbs as they got in the way? Nonetheless, he continued the conversation.  
“Hello! You are… a person made of flesh. Without a name?” He questioned, seemingly choosing his words simultaneously poorly and cautiously. Only a true idiot would manage to be so careful with his words and still be so peculiar. His attempts to appear normal, to him, were successful. To others… not so much. Essentially, he was asking Ford for his name.  
Ford remembered that it was also polite to tell people his name and that he hadn’t told Bill his name. He felt like a real jerk. “Oh, apologies, I’m Stanford,” he told him, smiling at his rather odd roommate. He hoped that Bill wasn’t the type to party every night and bring back random people to their dorm room. In fact, he was hoping Bill would be like him. That was the plan for this year - make friends that had a similar mindset to him. Then he would feel comfortable being in a place like this.

What an odd way of speaking. ‘Apologies’, Bill thought to himself with a frown. He hadn’t recalled meeting a human who said that instead of ‘sorry’ for decades, perhaps even a century. Regardless, he nodded to show he had been listening.  
“Well, Stan-Ford,” he said as a smile split across his face. “I look forward to being the mate in your room!” It wasn’t even worth pointing out how wrong that was. He hauled himself up the ladder and onto his loft bed, collecting his trigonometry book and settling down on the bed as he flicked through it. He didn’t seem to be bothered with reading the book itself or even focusing on the equations, he just looked at the images and mumbled something about the fetching angles. Weird, but perhaps the most normal thing about this person. 

Ford raised an eyebrow at the odd behaviour from Bill but ignored it as he began to unpack his things, placing all of the books and comics he brought with him on the desk. He decided he would unpack his clothes later, and glanced over at his roommate's bed to see where he put his clothes. Ford noticed that Bill had… nothing. Maybe he lived nearby, and had his stuff at home? But then why would Bill even need a dorm room if he lived nearby. Perhaps his luggage hadn’t been delivered yet? Yes, that was more logical. He sat down on the chair at his desk and looked over at the bunk at Bill.  
“So, do you live nearby? And what’s your major? I suppose we should get to know each other, seeing as we’re going to be living this close for the rest of the year,” Ford said, already making predictions of who Bill could be.  
“What?” Bill asked as he turned his attention to Ford, pushing the book away and sitting cross-legged. How dare this… human with his odd name interrupt his reading? Well- ‘reading’ was a bit much bearing in mind that Bill didn’t even know how to read. “No, no, I don’t live anywhere,” he said with a shrug, though he perked up when he remembered Ford had asked a second question. “Oh, psychology! My major is psychology!” He began playing with his bedding, which had no sheets on it as he, evidently, hadn’t brought any. It was the same with his clothes- he’d appeared with comfy clothes so that he’d not have to bother changing. As he got more comfortable with Ford, he’d likely leave the clothes in the washing machine in one room while he showered in the other, then nakedly put his clothes into the dryer and lie, nude, on the floor of the kitchen while he waited for them to dry. After all, he only wore clothes because it was ‘unacceptable’ not to.

Ford frowned at Bill’s answer, as he assumed that Bill’s luggage wasn’t delivered yet. He started to unpack things for his bed, deciding to get that over with and make it now. He left his old bedsheets at home, as they may or may not be the same ones from when he was a kid, the one with the aliens and the spaceships on it. He didn't think it would be appropriate to bring to college, so he had to get some more from the store. He settled on a dark blue set, and once he placed everything where it belonged, he looked back over at Bill.  
“Psychology, hm? Interesting,” he said, smiling at his roommate. “I’m studying physics, though I plan to get that out of the way by the end of the semester so I can get on with more advanced physics. Realistically I want to get through all of the physics programmes by the end of the year.” He had high hopes and wanted to get the most out of his education. It wasn’t where he wanted to be, but he wasn’t going to let that hold him back. Bill nodded, looking over at Ford. What was the reason for all this conversation? God, he hadn’t been stuck with some… social butterfly, has he? Ignoring it, he turned his attention back to Ford.  
“Got any other interrogations?” He asked somewhat blandly, frowning at the brunet opposite him. It came off more rude than intended- Bill needed to get along with Ford because he planned on asking Ford to teach him to read. Worse-case scenario, he paid him with the money he could make appear, but that didn’t matter. He made a piggy-bank (shaped like a golden pyramid with an eye on it) appear on his desk, full of notes in case he had to. Where he had gotten them from was irrelevant. Besides- Ford would probably drag him off shopping, anyway.

Moving off of the bed and standing on the floor, Bill sat at his desk to be more level with Ford. It was best not to stay too out of reach so that he would come across as someone easier to approach. It was the little things that would make him a ‘good’ mate of the room, such as making it appear like he wasn’t vastly superior to the human before him. Right now, the thing that would make him appear nice would be pretending to care about this physics-obsessed nerd and what he wanted to learn.  
Ford was taken aback at Bill’s comment and watched him carefully as he moved. It was hard to tell if Bill liked him, but Ford was hopeful. “Well, it’s not really an interrogation now, is it? I’m only curious to know more about you,” he said, wanting to comment on Bill’s lack of belongings again, but decided against it. He had already been rude once by not accepting his handshake.  
He took out a few notebooks he had packed with him, setting them on the desk. In one of them, he had written out a list of food he needed to buy, and guessed that Bill hadn’t stocked up the kitchen yet. He had passed a small grocery store on his walk here, and stood up, grabbing a light jacket. “Would you like to join me in going shopping? Unless you’ve already got food with you, then I’ll happily go on my own.”

Turning his attention to Ford properly, Bill nodded. “I’ll go with you, I need to get some… things,” he said as he opened the piggy-bank. He took out a handful of notes and put them into his pocket before turning his attention to Ford. “What are we doing, anyway? Where are we going? What are we going to buy?” He stood, approaching the end of the bed and making socks appear on his feet, kicking on shoes that conveniently appeared underneath the bed, all of this happening under the bed to avoid Ford seeing it happen.  
“We’re… going to buy food?” Ford said, confused. Something seemed off about Bill, but Ford told himself that it was because he had just met him, and wasn’t used to Bill’s mannerisms and quirks yet. “We’ll need to stock up our kitchen with food.” He put on his jacket and grabbed his wallet. His parents had given him quite a bit of money to get him started at college, but he knew it wouldn’t last him long. He looked at Bill. “Are you ready to go?”  
Bill nodded as he approached the door, waiting for Ford to open it and lead the way to the shop (and ideally a mode of transport that would allow them to get there without excessive walking. He still had yet to get used to this body) and began counting his money while he waited. He had around $400 on him, not to mention however much was in his replenishing piggy-bank. Overall, his money would last him a while. Thankfully.

Ford could drive, but he didn't yet have a car that he could drive here. He knew the store wasn’t too far, a ten-minute walk at the most, so he hoped Bill either had a car or didn't mind the walk. He opened the door, gesturing for Bill to walk out first.  
“I hope you don’t mind a walk. The store isn’t too far away,” he told Bill, looking at him with a smile. “And as long as we don’t buy too much stuff, we’ll be fine…” Nodding slowly, Bill complied and went outside. He ran one hand through his hair, sighing softly as he walked around the hall, waiting for Ford to lock up and go ahead.  
“How far is it?” he asked as he looked around the blandly decorated hall. He wanted so badly to graffiti it to stop it from being so damn boring. “And how much are we planning on buying? Is there no bus or anything if we get too much to walk back?” God, he talked a lot.  
Ford locked up, pocketing the keys in his jacket and shrugged. “It’s a ten-minute walk, and… I think there’s a bus near it? I’m not too sure,” he said, walking down the hallway. “And… we can buy as much as we want.” He was curious as to why Bill asked so many questions. Normally people knew these kinds of things. “I’m going to buy food for breakfast and dinner and snacks. I heard the cafeteria is slightly under average.” West Coast Tech wouldn’t have slightly under average food. They would have the best food. Too bad he would never get to try it. 

Nodding, Bill plodded alongside him. “I don’t understand,” he mumbled confusedly. “Do humans… need above-average food to survive? I mean- not ‘humans’, that’s- no, I just-” He stopped, frowning. “I’ll let you be in charge of food and cooking,” he then mumbled as if to disregard the rest of his words. “Are we just going to get food?” He was incredibly confused. Sometimes humans needed everything and then they’d need nothing. He just didn’t understand it. What the fuck…? Ugh.  
“We can buy other things if you want,” Ford told him, looking at him. He adjusted his glasses and looked back in front of him, shoving his hands into his pockets to avoid them being seen by anyone. “I noticed you have no belongings anyway. Has your luggage not been delivered? You can always buy the essentials at the store to last you until your things arrive,” he suggested with a small shrug. Bill frowned.  
“No, I don’t have any luggage,” he said as he looked at Ford. “I only have the clothes I’m wearing. I borrowed the book from the library. I don’t own anything aside from the clothes I’m wearing.” He just wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. He didn’t have anything he’d brought. Was he supposed to have anything? Ugh. Regardless of this, of his own confusion, he decided that Ford would help. The brunet seemed nice enough and it would be easy to get him to help. Hell- Bill was only being as patient and nice as this so that when he finally told Ford who he was and why he was there, he’d know the best methods of manipulating him to do what he wanted.  
Ford was concerned when Bill said he had nothing. He wondered if maybe Bill was homeless or got kicked out of his house before coming here. He wanted to be a nice roommate, and for someone that Bill could trust, so he turned and smiled at him.  
“You can borrow some of my things if you want? And I’m happy to try and help you buy other things for you too.” Bill flashed a smile. Judging by the way he was being spoken to, he assumed that it would be best to play the poor, desperate, lonely soul for now.  
“Thanks! Means a lot,” he lied with ease, continuing to walk and assuming Ford would continue. He’d also noticed the mutation that caused the extra finger on his hands, but he was cautious about bringing it up. After all, striking the wrong nerve would result in… negative reactions. He couldn’t afford to be disliked when Ford was such a crucial part of his plan. 

The local store wasn’t huge, but it had the necessities inside that made most of the students at Backupsmore live in it. Ford was glad when they had arrived, having run out of things to talk, well, ramble on about. He was never normally such a chatterbox, but he couldn’t seem to shut up around Bill. As he walked inside, he grabbed a basket for himself and got out his list of items he needed. His ma gave him lots of recipes to try out whilst he was here, and he was planning on doing just that  
Bill just followed. He would be lying if he said he knew what the fuck he was doing, but that wouldn’t stop him from following Ford around and letting the other search for everything.  
“So… what are you getting? What’s on the list? What- What is that? And that?” he had entirely forgotten how quickly humanity invented things, especially food-based, and all the weird names for them. He began to ask Ford what almost everything on the list was. It wasn’t /his/ fault he was clueless. Not entirely.

Confused wasn’t the right word when Bill began to question what was on Ford’s list. Surely everyone knew what ordinary food like onions and tomatoes were?  
“Well, there’s a lot of food on here, from vegetables and fruits to coffee and snacks like chips and pretzels… You… Are you a foreign exchange student?” He asked, which came across as rude. Ford didn't mean to be rude. He was simply curious to know more about Bill and how… odd he was.  
Bill frowned. Was he supposed to take offence to that? Because… He wasn’t sure. Would he be classified as foreign? He frowned, just looking confused.  
“No…?” he attempted to say, though it sounded more like a question. He must be so bizarre to Ford. This total stranger looking just like a freak and behaving worse. Human psychology was fascinating, though, and he was eager to find out what Ford’s psychology would be like! He couldn’t wait to ask him all kinds of things, to test his patience and see how he’d behave when degraded, when praised, when promised riches and given nothing, when admired or when hated, when fulfilled and when betrayed- everything. He wanted to break him and rebuild him to break him again. It didn’t seem like it would be too hard- Ford was already hurting emotionally. It would be fun!

 

All he had to do was find the source of the pain and- “Shit-!” He yelled out, having not realised that Ford had stopped walking and happily walking straight into the trolley, which wouldn’t have hurt if it wasn’t pressed against the wall and stationary, meaning that his hip slammed into the edge of the trolley. What the actual fuck was wrong with the human bodies if that hurt so badly? One hand clamped onto his side, he took a moment to recover. When he did, he turned his attention to Ford and puffed. “Where would you expect me to be from?” He asked accusingly as he folded his arms over his chest. Foreign? Foreign from where? God, he shouldn’t have abandoned humanity for so long because now he had no idea what the actual fuck anything else was. Did he seem like he’d come from anywhere? He didn’t think his voice would have a strong accent if he didn’t actually live anywhere on Earth. Did his behaviour make it seem like he didn’t speak English? What kind of non-English person wouldn’t even understand the foundations of diets? For a genius, Ford wasn’t very bright.  
Ford simply shrugged and checked his list to see what items were closest to him. He started to push the trolley again, making his way down the aisle with the fruits and vegetables in it. He looked back to check that Bill was still following him, and had a quick glance up and down Bill’s body, trying to figure out where in the world could he have come from.  
“You seem like you would come from… Hm, I’m not too sure,” Ford hummed, as he started to pick up items that he needed. “I was just curious as to where you’re from, that’s all. I would like to get to know you better, Bill, and right now I’m just interested as to why you had nothing with you.” A loud and dramatic groan escaped Bill as he looked at Ford, rolling his eyes as he pursued him.  
“Why does it matter?” He questioned irritably, letting out a huff of air and swinging himself into the trolley, settling down inside it. He was too bored of walking. Using his legs like the human he wasn’t. Or wasn’t supposed to be, anyway. He was human temporarily, just with a lot more abilities.  
“Well, you-” Ford paused as he watched Bill climb into the trolley. He let out a sigh, and simply placed any items of food he needed around Bill. “You need clothes, and supplies for lessons, too,” he explained, placing a few onions into a bag and setting them down by Bill’s legs. “And as much as I want to let you borrow my things, you’re going to need your own eventually.” He crossed off the items on the list he already had, which were onions and potatoes. He grabbed a bag of carrots and was careful to place them in.

 

Ford let out a small groan as he started to push the trolley again. Bill was happily swaying side-to-side as he was pushed around. “Why, though? What difference does it make?” He asked as he glanced around. “Supplies, clothes, whatever! I only need what I have, and I have nothing but what I’m wearing!” And a shit ton of money, but it was best not to add that. “What kind of clothes and what supplies?” God, he was clueless. He thought he was quite knowledgeable, but evidently, he wasn’t as smart as he’d thought. He didn’t understand half of the shit that humans did anymore. He leant back a little, turning his attention up to Ford and getting a pleasant angle that let him see up his nose. “I mean- what’s the point in any of this stuff? Nobody’s real, so why bother to impress?” What a morbid, though blunt, view on life.  
Ford glanced down at Bill, before pushing up his glasses and checking the list. He grabbed a bag of apples and frowned at Bill. “You need a few changes of clothes, not to mention underwear. And school supplies. Books, pens, notebooks, anything you need.” He told him, making a mental note to help Bill buy his own things. Rolling his eyes but nodding nonetheless, Bill leant back in the trolley. “Lead the way, then,” he remarked lazily while he leant back. Ford could take them to wherever they needed to go- it didn’t matter much to him. 

The next thing on the list was bread and pasta, so Ford pushed the trolley with Bill in it down the aisle which had the bread. He stopped and stared at all of the different kinds. Now… what did he normally have at home? He tapped his chin in thought, and then looked over at Bill.  
“What kind of bread do you want?” Ford asked. He wondered if that was the most boring sentence he had ever said to someone. It probably was, considering the fact that Ford had little to no social skills, and also spend most of his highschool life in the library, either rereading all the books or trying to befriend the librarian. Bill frowned. Bread type? Wasn’t ‘edible’ enough for people these days?  
“Surprise me,” he remarked lazily and almost cynically, somewhat not believing that humans would be so picky with food types when they had no right to be so demanding. Humans confused him so fucking much. Ford rolled his eyes at Bill’s comment and grabbed two loaves of simple, white bread and placing them into the trolley. He made sure to try and put them as far away from Bill so he wouldn’t accidentally crush them. He crossed bread off of the list and carried on walking to see what else was down there that he needed. Luckily for Ford, that worked. With the items that would be easily destroyed out of reach, Bill held no interest in them- much less enough to reach out for them solely to destroy them. Instead, he simply stared at the food he was now surrounded in, frowning. “I don’t- I- Why do we have so much? Do you people- do we really need all this? How long will this last us?” Good job not looking stupid, Bill! The onions, carrots, potatoes and bread in the cart will last a whole week if you deny yourself sufficient nutrition.  
“It’ll last us a while, Bill,” Ford explained, grabbing eggs and sugar as he walked past them. “You can cook a lot of different things with the items already… Oh, you’ll probably need to get out soon. I don’t want you surrounded by food in case you rip open a bag or break something.” Puffing out his cheeks but nonetheless hauling himself out of the trolley, Bill complied and returned to plodding dully behind Ford. god, this was miserable. He ran his hands through his hair, pushing his matted mess out of his face. He’d only had hair like this for half a day and it was already irritating. He’d just have to get used to it eventually, like walking and not pouring drinks into his eyes.

The rest of the trip went by smoothly, well, for Ford at least. He got everything he needed, as well as treats and snacks that he would probably eat. He made awkward conversation with the cashier and left as quickly as he could. He then remembered they would have to walk back home, and luckily Ford managed to pack everything into just a few bags, so there wasn’t much to carry. He handed some of the bags to Bill, as he wasn’t going to take everything home by himself. Besides, if he was going to cook for them both, he wanted Bill to help out at least. Reluctantly taking the bags, Bill understood that he had no choice in the matter, but whenever Ford wasn’t looking and he could get away with it, the bag would glow a soft blue and float alongside his hands as a small method of cheating. He plodded dully along behind Ford, groaning loudly and dramatically. “How far is it?” He asked loudly, wanting to make sure the other could hear him.  
Ford rolled his eyes at Bill’s groans and looked back at him. “Not long. It’s really not that far away, Bill. You’re being overdramatic,” he told him. “Next time we can get the bus, okay?” He doubted he would keep that promise - Ford liked to walk places, but if Bill was going to be this annoying he decided that a few trips on the bus wouldn't hurt.

Puffing out his cheeks but agreeing, Bill continued, pursuing Ford with a blank expression. God, did humans really need this much food? His stomach growled loudly and he growled back for a moment, forgetting that it was impossible to assert dominance over his own body, glancing up at Ford. Why had he given himself such a short body? He’d had the option to make himself tall, fetching, absolutely gorgeous, but instead he was 5’5”, scrawnier than he wanted to be and had no muscle. His hair was a clump of inconvenience and god, was it just him or was it incredibly hot out? Ah, another point- he was inconveniently dressed. Who’d have known that it could be so goddamn hot on Earth? This shithole planet was going to kill him. He needed to do something, but he wasn’t wearing anything under his hoodie because he’d figured he wouldn’t need to go into that much detail. He looked up at Ford, frowning and not knowing how exactly he was supposed to demand food without being rude. God, human etiquette would kill him because he’d not learn how to say anything the right way and get beaten to death for it.  
Ford got lost in his mind as he walked, thinking of possible theories as to who Bill was and where he came from. Something about Bill intrigued Ford, and he was determined to befriend him. Maybe then he wouldn't look as sad, calling up his ma and saying he still had no friends. Either way, Bill was going to be considered one of Ford’s friends whether he liked it or not. He looked back over at his roommate and flashed him a warm smile. The first rule of making friends - be nice and smile at them.  
He hoped this would be a breeze. He needed a lot of hope. The last friend he had was his high school’s janitor, and that was because he spent countless hours still in school hours after it had closed to study. He hoped he could try to reinvent himself at college.

The smile confused Bill. How the fuck was he supposed to react? Smile back? He’d waited too long now, it’d just be weird. Ignore it? Wouldn’t that be rude? God, fuck, he didn’t know what he was doing. He looked down, deciding that that was a safe bet, before suddenly announcing (louder than intended), “I demand food!”, which scared the dear old lady who had been walking past them at the time. He flushed red in humiliation, unused to the heat that flushed his face as he stared at the ground. What emotion was this? He’d not felt it before. He… He didn’t like it.  
The announcement from Bill shocked Ford, and he looked back over at him. “Well, we’re almost back to our dorm, so… you’ll have to wait a few more minutes?” He replied, a little unsure. It was like talking to a child, and he never got on well with children. He walked a little faster, wanting to get back, unpack and maybe find a quiet place to go call his ma up. Bill frowned. Why would he have to wait? He never had to wait for anyone. He nodded slowly, moving a little quicker like it would urge Ford to do the same. He hated this. He just needed to eat. He was starting to get moody, too, which wouldn’t end well. Honestly, knowing him, it’d end with him demanding to be fed sooner and outing himself as a demon who ‘shouldn’t have to put up with that shit’. A loud sigh escaped him as he glanced back at Ford, forcing himself to walk even quicker.

By the time they got back, Ford was beginning to feel hungry. He had eaten on the bus journey here, but it was just a small snack. He headed into the kitchen area and placed the bags on the counter, starting to take everything out and put them in their rightful places. He wondered what kind of food Bill liked, but judging by the conversation they had in the store, Bill didn't really know much about food. Ford wondered what else Bill didn't know about. Bill had followed Ford like a lost puppy, too focused on seeming normal to realise that he’d begun tugging on the other's sleeve, wanting food but still not knowing how to ask for it without repeating what had happened earlier. God, this was all so shitty and confusing.  
Ford was starting to think he was babysitting Bill. He looked down at his roommate and raised an eyebrow. “If you want food you can find something to eat,” he said, shoving things into the fridge. “You don’t have to ask me for everything…” he mumbled under his breath. If Bill acted like this all year, he might have to start drinking to help with it.

Bill frowned. What the fuck was that supposed to mean? “Well- h-how will I know if I’m allowed to eat it? What if you plan on using it for dinner or lunch or something?! A-And I- what if it’s really bad for people to eat raw or without anything with it and I die?!” He asked accusingly, hating how indignantly he was acting but he just couldn’t shut off his mouth. It was like speaking came first and making sense came second. This must be an impulse, then.  
Ford took a deep breath, and even though he wasn’t actively religious anymore, he prayed that he had the strength to deal with Bill. He turned to face him and grabbed an apple from the bag. “Here. I’m not planning on using this for a meal, and it’s perfectly safe to eat,” he said, placing the apple into Bill’s hand. Suddenly beaming, all anger gone, Bill took a large bite from the apple before leaning up and pecking Ford’s lips.  
“Thanks!” he chirped, assuming that the kiss was a normal way of thanking people. He’d seen someone on the way home who had thanked someone and kissed them, so it must just have seemed normal for him to do. He then moved past Ford to go to his room and sit on his desk, happily munching on the apple. His stomach thanked him.

Ford was frozen to the spot. His cheeks felt warm and he had no idea what had happened. Did Bill mean to kiss him? Well, he obviously did. But why? Ford’s head hurt just trying to think about it, so he blinked a few times, pushed his glasses back up his nose and packed away the bags. Once he was done, he recollected his thoughts and walked out. He decided to pretend that that never happened. Without being told that what he’d done was wrong, Bill didn’t realise. Instead, he continued eating and soon had eaten all but the wooden stalk of the apple. It disappeared from his hand as he relaxed back on the desk, clearly having not realised that not every human could do that. Not any humans. He wasn’t used to having to monitor his magic usage, which was becoming a problem. It would, very soon, become an extreme problem. What was he supposed to do if he couldn’t do the little things, like teleporting and making things appear if he chose that he needed them? He’d forgotten Ford was there and had a high chance of seeing him use his magic. 

Then again, Ford's nose was buried in a book and he showed no signs of interest in the physical world now that his attention had been snatched away. It wouldn't be too hard to use casual magic without the other noticing.


End file.
